


Horny LonelyEyes Drabbles

by ThatOneGirlBehindYou



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Drabble Collection, M/M, No continuity unless otherwise specified, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, specific tags in each chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:15:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23842855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatOneGirlBehindYou/pseuds/ThatOneGirlBehindYou
Summary: A collection of drabbles born from horny conversations at the LonelyEyes discord server
Relationships: Elias Bouchard/Peter Lukas
Comments: 3
Kudos: 57





	Horny LonelyEyes Drabbles

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter features:
> 
> Alternate universe where everything is the same except Peter is a werewolf on top of being a Lonely avatar
> 
> Werewolf sex  
> Biting  
> Knots (the dick kind)  
> Dirty talk and just trash talking your partner in general because Elias is an ass and that's what he does  
> Bit of blood but nothing to intense

He's still James Wright when he first meets Peter Lukas, but only barely so, and only because Elias Bouchard is not yet ripe for the picking.

He meets with the new point of contact with the Lukas family in plain daylight, but James still notices his... condition. Peter is a large man, but that's par for the course with the Lukases. What catches his attention is the way his eyes reflect the light when they walk into the semi penumbra of the Institute. His tongue that looks flat and red when he speaks, and the way he tilts his head minutely as they walk down the corridors to James' office, as if he's listening to something happening far away. 

How his hand when James shakes it at the end of the visit, sports long claws instead of fingernails. 

It's interesting, he thinks. Those of his kind are usually recruited by the Hunt, or the Slaughter if they're especially feral. This gives the term 'Lone Wolf' a very literal, ridiculously appropriate meaning.

He will be fun to play with.

\--------------------------

James Sees Peter step out of the Tundra and walk across the docks to a waiting cab, and his heart begins to race.

He's kept it a secret that he knows Peter sometimes roams the grey expanse of the Forsaken on four legs instead of two, now it's time to start testing it.

It will take Peter 32 minutes to get from the docks to the Institute, and James plans on using those to the best of their extent.

He starts small, just a hand into his trousers to grab a hold of himself and begin pumping himself to hardness. He Watches the man on the car and imagines it's his hand instead, large, heavy and almost unbearably warm, and a gasp escapes his lips. 

Next, when Peter is only 25 minutes away, a single finger, slick with spit -James didn't want the scent of lubricant to mess with his experiment- is pushed past his rim, as he Watches Peter tap a single, clawed finger -so much thicker than his own, so much _larger_ \- against the window, and James pushes another finger in to try and simulate the feeling he truly wants. It certainly adds another level of arousal to watch Peter as he does this while the man is unaware.

James teases himself like that for a while, two fingers pushing in and out of his hole and his hand pumping a mild rhythm on his cock, Peter's cab comes to a stop at a red light a block away from the Institute. This close in James can take a few peeks at his thoughts, and as always they're _delicious_.

It was early on in their partnership that Peter began thinking of having James, and he has the most interesting ideas.

Right now, he's wondering if James will be wearing the dark green waistcoat that hugs his shape so well. Peter loves when he wears it, because he can practically pictures his hands wrapped around his waist as he bends him over the desk and bites down on his neck.

Peter imagines rubbing his clothed cock against James's ass, and James lets a little moan escape him, just the barest suggestion of Peter's name on his lips.

The werewolf stiffens on his seat, his head tilted the slightest bit to the side, and James smiles in delight.

He doesn't bother finishing, merely tucking himself back in before stepping up to the en suite washroom to make himself presentable again. 

Peter takes one step inside the Institute and James sees his nostrils flare. His steps are only a little bit hurried as he walks by the receptionist without sparing them a glance or a word. 

James sits at his desk, not a hair out of place and waits for the moment the door opens. 

The doorknob jangles for a second before a tense knock comes, as if Peter had been about to burst in before remembering his manners

"Peter, please come in," James calls out after a couple seconds of silence. The door opens almost immediately, and James takes him in from head to toe.

Peter's eyes are flashing gold instead of their usual ice cold blue, and his nostrils flare like sails in a storm. His chest heaves up and downi lke he ran the whole way from the docks, and James can see claws digging into the wood of the doorframe.

They stare at one another for a long moment. Peter waiting for James to offer him a seat while pretending he doesn't know exactly what James was up to not five minutes ago. James making bets with himself as to whether or not he will fold.

In the end though, James is a man that doesn't deny himself his pleasure, and he's kept Peter at arm's length for too long.

"If you like it so much," James starts, and Peter almost leans in at the sound of his voice, like a well trained hound. "I'll wear the green waistcoat next time. Throw the dog a bone, as it were." 

A low growl resonates across the office, born deep in Peter's throat and aimed directly at James' crotch.

"How long have you known for?" Peter's canines elongate even as James watches, and of course he should've expected this. Peter is an old monster, he's got to be powerful enough to change at will.

James leans back on his chair and throws his legs open. Peter's nostrils flare again and a long, red tongue laps at his fangs anxiously.

"Dear Peter, does it really matter?"

And Peter must decide it doesn't, because he slams the door shut before lunging forward.

Peter's hands are just as heavy and hot as James expected as they wrap around his nape and his waist, and he stretches up to pull the old wolf down for a kiss. There's a lot of clacking teeth and sharp points, and when Peter thrusts his tongue inside James' mouth it just _keeps coming_ until it's caressing at the back of James' throat, ripping a groan out of him.

He swallows around the appendage before it's pulled out, leaving a thick trail of saliva running down his chin.

"You were touching yourself. You- you called for me," Peter's voice has lost its jovial tone, now only a guttural snarl that reverberates off James' bones. "Did you do it on purpose?"

James darts his tongue out to catch at the spit running down his mouth. "Did it work?" When he lays a hand on Peter's broad chest, James feels a growl vibrating deep inside of it. "I must say, you're showing an awful lot of restraint, all things considered."

Peter's eyes look like twin eclipses, a thin ring of gold around an empty void. 

"Do you need to see more?" James asks as he pops the button of his trousers, and looks over his shoulder in time to see Peter's ear twitch. He parts the fabric and massages himself through his underwear, and a dive into Peter's thoughts reveals just how thick and cloying the scent of his arousal is. A bomb could be going off on the street below, and Peter would have no mind for it. "Another sniff or two before you come get a-"

James's last word is cut with a gasp as Peter pushes him against the wall, pressing every inch of his body against James's back. A very noticeable bulge is pushed against his ass, and James cackles in delight as Peter's long tongue runs over his neck.

One of Peter's hands comes over to his front, and the sharp claws hook into fabric before they pull down harshly. The buttons from James' shirt rain down on the carpeted floor and there's a delicious streak of pain where a single claw leaves an angry red mark down his chest and ribcage.

"This is more like it," James grunts appreciatively as Peter sinks sharp fangs on the juncture of neck and shoulder. "I want to feel you for the rest of the day, you _stupid mutt_!"

"What do I have to do-" Peter growls into his ear, "to make you _shut up_?" A big hand wraps around James' nape and shoves him until his cheek and nose are smushed against the wall, while the other pulls at his trousers. James hears the seams crack a second before cool air makes contact with his overheated skin.

"You're on the right path, certainly." James spreads his thighs a little wider. He'll miss those trousers, but sometimes you have to lose big to win bigger, and oh, he's winning _big_.

Peter drops to his knees so abruptly his tendons might as well have been slashed, and James has exactly two and a half seconds to feel exposed to his gaze before Peter shoves his face against his ass. A long tongue is pressed flat to his hole. He's still loose from the fingering before, and James chokes back a moan when it pushes inside him, slippery and fast lapping at him with a purpose until drool is dripping out of James' gaping hole and down his trembling thighs.

James presses his forehead to the cool wall, gasping in delight as the tongue fucks into him, thick and searing hot. Peter's fangs tease at his rim and once in a while a thick clawed finger comes and joins the tongue in fucking James' used hole.

"You like that?" Peter grunts before biting viciously at one of his cheeks. "Is that what you wanted? I hope you knew what you were getting into." He asks, and runs his tongue on a last long stripe from the back of his balls to his hole.

He climbs to his feet again -and James is pretty sure he didn't quite tower over him quite this much a few minutes ago- and presses his whole body to flatten James against the wall. James hears the pop of a button and a zipper running down, and he takes in a deep breath in anticipation.

"I can hear your heart. I didn't think you had one, but it's running now." Peter snarls in his ear. His sharp teeth graze against the shell of his ear, and James is suddenly very aware of how thin the cartilage and skin are, how easy it would be for Peter to just bite down and rip it off. "Are you scared?" 

James' response is to push his ass against Peter's crotch, against the hard, hot dick bulging behind him. Peter snarls, and a clawed hand wraps around James' nape while the other goes between their bodies. It's a heavenly experience, to feel the tip of Peter's large erection be firmly guided to his hole, and not be able to move in the slightest. A certain sort of vulnerability James is not used to feeling, and the adrenaline courses through his veins like sweet heroine. 

Peter's hips snap forward, and James moans as he's lifted clear off his feet, the red hot spear of pleasure filling him to the brim. He tries to find purchase on the wall, but succeeds only in leaving deep scratch marks behind as Peter's hips piston against him with beast-like drive, no logic or tenderness to the act, just a primal urge to rut into a hot hole until he's ready to spill.

"Peter-!" James's gasps out, when he twists enough to look down and see his belly bulging with the pressure of Peter's enormous dick. His own cock is dribbling a steady trickle of precome as the monster inside him drags and pushes at his prostate on every thrust.

"This is- what you wanted," Peter snarls, and James can feel the struggle in his words, the strain in his voice as he tries to keep his transformation at bay. "You little whore."

"Do it harder, deeper!" James demands, as if Peter isn't sheathed balls deep in his body, James' weight supported only by the werewolf's hand on his neck as Peter's dick cores him out. "I want to feel you, you idiot dog, do I have to go out there to find someone to fuck me _right_?!"

Peter all but growls at that, and James knows he hit the nail on the head. Wolves and Lukases, monogamous the both of them, and possessive to boot. In falling for his taunts, for his own carnal attraction to James, this wolf of salt and freedom has effectively leashed himself. 

James is thrown hard against his desk, the breath knocked out of him as his stomach collides the hard wood edge. He draws in a shallow breath and heaves a delighted cackle before Peter's at his back again, sliding into him easily now that he's been stretched open by his girth. 

"This is mine now," Peter snarls into his ear, and James cackles again as one of Peter's hands -he has retracted his claws, James notes with a pang of something that could be confused with affection- comes down to grab at his cheek to pull him open. " _No one_ can touch you, James, you're _mine_ now. You _wanted_ this!"

"That's a lot of bark and no bite, my dear!" Jonah half gasps, half laughs. "Let your claws out. Let me _feel_ you, I want _all_ of you!" 

The sharp claws dig at his flesh almost immediately, at least one of them piercing skin and drawing blood as Peter growls and fucks him harder; the thought of being used so thoroughly for Peter's pleasure and not being able to touch himself is a blissful torture, and James feels himself drawing closer and closer to the edge, when he feels Peter's dick starting to swell at the base.

"Is that for me Peter? Are you going to knot me like a bitch in heat?" James goads him as the swell starts catching and dragging at his rim on the way out. "Are you going to-" Peter's jaws clench around the junction between James' neck and shoulder, and James _screams_. The pressure intensifies, the fangs sinking into his skin as the knot finally catches and then he's being flooded with warmth.

James can't move an inch, trapped between Peter's jaws, below Peter's weight, wrapped around Peter's knot, and for a moment the pressure and the fullness is all he can feel; there's not enough space in him for air anymore, and James's vision goes white, all of his eyes blind to any and all knowledge in pleasure for a second that lasts an eternity.

When he comes to, Peter is maneuvering them carefully to sit on James's chair, and James has a moment to be grateful he invested on quality furniture. The chair creaks under their combined weight, but holds. James shifts on Peter's lap, the knot inside him alien and stretching him almost unbearably, his belly still swollen with the hot come that has nowhere to escape to.

"Good doggie, Peter," James mutters in post orgasmic bliss. Even better than he imagined, and he has a _wonderful_ imagination. 

Peter's only response is to pull him back against his chest, a deep chuckle rumbling from his belly as he begins lapping at the bleeding bite on James' neck.


End file.
